UNTITLED

Erica Williams

8th Grade • Whitney Young Academic Center

I knew I was always a stick out. I just didn’t know I was this much of one. My parents recently dragged me out to Nashville, Tennessee. I don’t blame them though. I would never blame them for anything. I have the best family in the world. They were always by my side. I wouldn’t trade them for the world.

But this was definitely not their best move. It just had to be the summer right before my eighth grade year. We packed our bags and took the 24 hour drive from Salt Lake City, Utah to our new home in Nashville, Tennessee. I didn’t think much of it the first third of the drive. I could always go back and see my one and only friend, Vanessa. I had just gotten her and I wasn’t ready to let her go.

But as the hours passed in the stuffy car and tiny motel rooms, my hope went down. And when we finally got to our new downtown house it finally hit me. I wasn’t just right around the corner from Vanessa anymore. It wasn’t just a quick walk and then I would hear her voice. No. It was a whole 24 hour drive. Twenty four hours of cheap fast food, tiny public restrooms, and the smell of burning gas. I was barely going to see her anymore, was I ever going to see her again?

So here I am on Willow Creek Road in Nashville, Tennessee. Nashville, Tennessee. Not Salt Lake City, Utah, but Nashville Tennessee. I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. I was a friendless outcast stuck in Nashville, Tennessee.

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“Do you want to stop unpacking for ten seconds and do something else,” Mom came in laughing.

“I’m good.” I wasn’t really unpacking anyway. I was staring out of the big window in my new room, looking at all the little boys and girls running around the big field in front of all the houses.

Mom followed my eyes and asked, “Do you want to go outside and play? I can unpack something for you.”

“No!” I quickly yelled. “I’ve got it from here, you can go back to what you were doing.”

Mom gave me a concerned look but replied, “Okay.”

It went on like this for days. They always had some type of new gadget. Water guns, lightsabers, swords. But on top of it all I’ve been able to notice this one girl. She would sit on one of the outdoor benches and draw, watching over one of the younger girls. I would sit at my desk and draw too. It would be like I was right next to her, talking with her, laughing with her. Of course none of that was real. I could never approach someone like her.

One day Mom came in and stood next to me as I was drawing with her in my head. “Why don’t you go out there and talk to her?” she asked me.

“She looks busy,” I lied.

Mom let out a sigh and then looked towards me. “I know this move has been hard on you but maybe it would be better if you had someone with you.”

“I do,” I said happily. “I have you and Dad.” She couldn’t argue with that so she just smiled and left.

But what if she was right? What if I should just go out there

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and talk to her. I quickly turned around and ran out to the hallway where my mom was walking away.

“Wait!” I called out to her. She turned around and I made my way to her. “I think I want to go out and talk to her.”

“Okay,” Mom said with a satisfactory grin. “Just go outside then.”

She said it as if it was that easy. Under my breath I asked, “But how do I talk to her? What do I even say?”

I could tell my mom was internally shaking her head but it was an honest question. I just didn’t know how to talk to people. It took me years just to get one friend. “Just ask for her name,” Mom started. “Ask what grade she’s in, what school she goes to, and then drawing. You know you guys both like to draw. You two might have more in common than you think.”

“Okay,” my voice came out shakier than I would’ve liked.

I walked outside and stood on the porch for as long as I could remember. There she was, right across the street, and all I had to do was walk up to her and say, “Hi.” So that’s what I did. It wasn’t as confident as I saw it in my mind. As I got closer I saw the girl’s head raise a little.

“Hi,” I said awkwardly with a little hand wave. “My name’s Kenzie, I just moved in across the street and I wanted to introduce myself.”

“My name’s Malia,” she replied. “I’m glad to see someone finally occupying that house. It’s been empty for as long as I can remember!” Malia laughed playfully.

“Glad to be here,” I laughed along, even if that was partially a lie. “I saw you drawing earlier and I like drawing too.”

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“Yea, it’s just a hobby,” Malia said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and covering her notepad with her sleeve. This was the first time she came off as nervous.

“I really like that sketch of Leona Turner you were doing,” I pointed to her covered notepad. “Sorry that I looked.”

Her face brightened up when I said that name. “You know Leona Turner?”

“Of course, she’s only my idol! Her drawing technique, the comics she makes. She’s pretty much perfect.” At this point I got comfortable on the bench next to her.

The conversation took off from there. Maybe Mom was right... no, she was right. We had a lot more in common than I could ever imagine. I let down my guard, floating off into a world of our own.

A woman finally came out onto one of the balconies and called Malia and her younger sister in.

“It was nice meeting you, Kenzie,” Malia said standing up. Then it looked like something crossed her mind. “Hey, I have something I’m working on for the new school year. I think you would really like it, it’s an arts project. I know it’s kind of my project but if you would like we can work on it tomorrow.”

“I’d like that,” I nodded and then we went our separate ways.

As soon as I got back inside I could see Mom trying to back away from the window as if she wasn’t just looking through it. “Soo, how’d it go?” she greeted me with.

“Good... really good, actually.”

Mom let out a little shriek and turned to my dad sitting at the

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dining room table. “She introduced herself to someone! She introduced herself to someone!” She then turned back to me. “I’m so proud of you!”

A smile formed on my face and I did a playful little eye roll. But inside I was proud of myself too. I was actually able to approach someone.

I met up with Malia the next day. She was sprawled out on the grass with a large poster with a few other girls. Malia introduced me to them as her friends. After the ball got to rolling we got along very well. They also lived very close. I was nervous with the whole situation at first, but I had a lot in common with them too. Then Malia introduced me to the project.

“We’re basically making posters for this one club at a school. This is the main poster,” she said pointing to the big poster in front of her, “And then we need a bunch of smaller posters. Be as creative as you want, this is for drawing and comics club.”

I nodded in agreement and then we all got to work, cracking jokes as we went along. Then I noticed the school mascot that was continuously drawn on the posters. “Hey are these for the Bluford Bulldogs?”

“Yea, do you know the school?” Malia asked, looking up at me.

“Actually, that’s the school I’m going to this fall.”

“That’s where we all go to school!” Malia exclaimed. “This is actually our club we’re making the posters for, I’m the club president.” The group was all excited now. “We’ll show you all around and get you accustomed to everyone. This is going to be so cool!”

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That day ended as soon as it started. I came out of it with three new friends who all truly appreciated me. More days piled on by and then school started. Malia took pride in showing me around and I loved sticking by her side. I started getting used to talking to new people and I would say I was actually breaking out of my shell.

I remember sitting down with Malia one day on her porch. “You know, I used to be bullied where I used to live. I only had one friend, I guess that’s not so surprising though.”

“Why wouldn’t that be surprising. You’re so fun to hang out with and just in a few months have become one of my closest friends.”

“I was so scared to approach you that day when you were on the bench. I actually used to sit in my room drawing pretending I was next to you.”

“I was pretty nervous when you came up to me too,” Malia laughed. “But I’m so glad you did.”

“Yeah,” I laughed along. “I remember me saying how glad I was to be here even though I wanted to be back in Utah so badly. But I’m so glad I’m here and I’m so glad I met you. You’ve made my life so much better and now because of you I now have a whole community behind me. You make me feel so important.”

“That’s because you are... you’re really important.”

I walked up to Mom the next day while she was washing dishes and took her by surprise. “Thank you,” I said.

“For what?” Mom laughed.

“For everything. If it wasn’t for you I would’ve never

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approached Malia in the first place. I would still be stuck in the shell that was holding me back this entire time.”

“Aww, I knew it was in you this entire time. You just needed the push of love.” We both looked at each other smiling. After a little while, Mom grabbed me by the arm and pulled me in. “Now come help me with these dishes!”

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